


you lift my feet off the ground

by camphollstein



Series: nothing safe is worth the drive [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/F, everyone else is just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camphollstein/pseuds/camphollstein
Summary: Their world moves forward.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's our last carmilla week so it's kind of obligatory posting time
> 
> final installment of this tiny series. hope it makes you smile.

 

 

 

 

She wakes up to the sound of muffled giggling.

Instinctively, she throws an arm at the other side of the bed; her hand lands on Laura's hips, causing her to let out her laugh.

“Why are you awake?” she grunts. “I thought we established mornings for sleeping.”

“It's noon, babe.”

“Exactly.”

Carmilla hears the victorious sound of a phone shutting off. Laura slides closer to her, nudging her way under Carmilla's chin. Before she can fall back into sleep, Laura speaks again.

“The internet is losing it.”

“When isn't it?” she says, still refusing to open her eyes. If she does so, Laura will assume it's time to get up, thus ruining Carmilla's plans to laze around in bed.

“We're a trending topic.”

“Hm.”

“Aw, c'mon,” Laura pokes her side, making her squirm, “This is kind of important.”

“Cuddling with your girlfriend is also very important.” She gives and opens her eyes. Laura's looking up at her adoringly, and it's thanks to her natural morning scowl that Carmilla doesn't give another in return. “Fine. What's up?”

“The fandom is dead-”

“I hate that word. It makes it all sound so _childish_.”

“And we're on the cover of a lot of magazines and websites-”

“That's expected. Not funny, though.”

“Funny?”

“Why were you laughing?”

“Mattie texted saying she's going to – I believe her exact words were – 'gut your girlfriend like a fish and feed the remains to second-rate cattle so that I don't have to listen to BuzzFeed's wannabe editors at 3AM.'”

“You're coming to my funeral, right?”

Laura grins, rises so her face is level to hers. She'll never get over this; sleep-rumpled Laura that smiles in the morning, her warm body at arm's reach, soft golden hair on their pillows.

“So,” she starts. Laura bites her lip, a clear sign that she's uncertain. “How do you feel about the world now knowing we're dating?”

Carmilla could very well tell her she's wanted to shout it out from the rooftops for months, since she's an utter fool about all things Hollis. Instead, she says, “It was bound to get out eventually. Besides, now I can kiss you any time.”

To prove her point, Carmilla rolls over on top of a delighted Laura and kisses her without preamble.

 

 

 

_'laura hollis and carmilla karnstein have watered my crops cured my diseases I am reborn'_

_'AAAAAAAA A A A AA. A AA'_

_'don't talk to me'_

_'#im fckhing fiNE'_

_'me @ these two fucks: how dare you also when's the wedding'_

_'i am L I V I N G'_

_'this is the single greatest thing ive ever witnessed thank you god'_

_'When did this happen???'_

_'#I M THE LORD F TRAS H MOUNNTAIN #I CANT D O THIS'_

 

 

_'@HeyCarmilla: You're missing the best part: Perry's tree is so tall it surpasses Danny's height. What a feat.'_

_'@SumSoc: @HeyCarmilla: why are you like this'_

 

 

 

 

Season Three is the hardest one to film yet. There's a pressure in both JP's and Perry's shoulders to make it just as good or even better than the previous ones, and it's taking a toll on both the crew and cast. Especially now that their ratings have gone up after the veritable storm their pictures had wrought.

They film at a such a breakneck pace that Carmilla is sure her character's tears are actually her own.

That's another thing; LaFontaine and Perry have created a new story arc for this season that sadly focuses on her, so she's been emotionally drained for all her worth on set. There's hardly any moment in which she isn't on screen, either in the background or forefront, making her miss her season one napping.

Thankfully, today is a day focusing on Kirsch's scenes, so she can drop dead in a random waiting room and just die.

She's lying face-down on the ratty couch when Laura comes in. Her steps are slow and light, like she's trying not to wake Carmilla up- when she sits, Carmilla curls up on her lap in record time.

“I'm so tired,” she mumbles, in that admittedly weird childish way she does when she's sleepy. Laura chuckles. “How do you do this?”

“Film?”

“Yes. No more.”

Laura finally puts her arms around her, pressing Carmilla tightly against her front; she sighs happily, hiding under her chin. Laura smells so nice and warm and it reminds her of their great, beautiful bed at home where JP is not likely to order her around. So she exhales slowly- but doesn't let go of consciousness, instead drifting in and out, paying attention to Laura's heartbeat.

“What scene was it?” Laura whispers, suddenly. “That's got you this tired?”

“I had to cry,” she tells her. “I hate crying. And there was that stunt scene yesterday.”

She had fallen during a jump during the stunts- her left arm and side were covered in mottled green and purple, from when she'd greeted the floor a little too enthusiastically. Thankfully, Laura hadn't been around, otherwise she would've flipped at the sound of Carmilla's ribs meeting concrete.

Her reaction at home had been of controlled worry. It speaks volumes of how much they've known each other, because she's sure Laura reeled her fear in for her sake. “Yeah. We should get you that bruise cream LaF mentioned,” is what she says.

“I love you.”

A quick breath and a missed heartbeat foretell Laura's answer, “I love you too. Why the sudden declaration?”

“What? Can't I tell my girlfriend I love her?”

“You don't really do that-”

“Then that must be rectified,” Carmilla grunts as she moves up to kiss Laura's blushing cheek. “I love you.”

Laura grants her a slow-spreading smile, the kind she usually lets out when she thinks Carmilla isn't looking. The kind she used to catch on interviews before they started dating, ones that people gif-ed over and over again, because they meant something. It's one of her favorites- though she says that of all of them.

 

 

 

A strand of hair falls off Laura's bun and Carmilla can't stop herself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. Laura flashes her a quick smile and squeezes the hand she's holding, before looking back down at her script.

Carmilla is not too worried about hers, so she takes the time to watch Laura. Her brows furrowed, tongue peeking out slightly; Laura is expressive at all times of day, even when she's going to sleep. Carmilla loves that she gets to see all of Laura's expressions and mannerisms, loves that she doesn't have to steal them like she did at the start of their friendship, doesn't have to squirrel away those tidbits in fear of not getting to see them again.

It's that time of the year again; they're going on to a year and a half and Carmilla gets a little nostalgic; because, well, being into someone – being  _in love_ with someone – without knowing whether it's mutual or not is an exquisite sort of pain, and one not easily forgotten. She remembers the half-awake nights of wondering and nitpicking and theorizing, the nights where she saw Laura tweet about award shows and taking selfies with people with thirty times her bank account.

She stops and looks and memorizes because it was hard and, looking back, kind of silly, since Laura was thinking of her too. Laura has freely admitted to doing so, in the safety of their bed, talking secrets into Carmilla's collarbones. She talks about waiting every morning for a smile, and leaving parties early so she could swing by Carmilla's house, and her own nights where she gazed at their pictures and wondered.

It feels like both yesterday and ten years ago, the day she realized she loved Laura. But it's all right, because her love hits her again and again every day, like waves crashing onto her willing frame, every time she sees her.

 

 

 

Carmilla is aware of how attractive her girlfriend is.

Most of the time it's that subconscious awareness, like knowing where the sun is in the sky. She doesn't necessarily have to look at it to know it's there; and if she didn't put Laura's appearance to the back of her mind, Carmilla would spend the entire day staring like an idiot.

However, as award season comes up and Laura puts on increasingly distracting dresses, Carmilla finds herself as stupidly enchanted as she used to be when they had first met. At least now she's her  _date_ – which is a thing all in of itself – and therefore allowed to hold her hand and smile like an idiot.

Laura seems to find it all very amusing, though flattering. She charms every interviewer with her laugh and Carmilla happily follows her around, rarely answering questions. She's hardly the star of the show, much less of the carpet, but they seem to expect some one-liner from her all the same. For some unknown kindness, no one asks about their relationship; Laura moves to talk to someone behind them, and she's left by the camera, with an excited host.

She asks pleasant enough questions, and Carmilla has grown used to this part and answers politely. Then she says, “Laura looks beautiful tonight,” and Carmilla gives her an actual smile.

“She does.”

“Oh, I don't know,” comes Laura's voice, as she returns and puts a hand to Carmilla's bare back. Carmilla shivers a little, covers it up with a smirk. Laura sees right through it. “I'd say you look great too.”

No one is really surprised when Laura wins, but Carmilla and Kirsch freeze when Silas gets an award too. They all go up to the stage, even Perry and LaF, confused and wondering, and Laura holds her hand while Kirsch delivers a speech with a slight shake to his voice. There's a lot of clapping, a lot of smiling actors that see those strange children get recognition they did not expect.

Backstage, Kirsch wraps Carmilla in a hug. They had a conversation about this, which feels like years ago; neither ever thought they'd get to go up those stairs for Silas, and they were content enough to just be mentioned during someone else's speech. Kirsch cries a little, she grips his shirt, laughs.

“We did it, scary hottie!”

“Never call me that again.”

They let go, pretend it didn't happen; she gets roped into a hug with Perry that is too tight for comfort, and a quick one from a misty-eyed LaFontaine. Then Laura is back at her side, crying a little too.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” she whispers at Laura, hands to her cheeks. Laura smiles as she brushes her lips to her temple. “You more than deserve this.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Carmilla laughs again, leans down to meet Laura halfway. There's probably someone with a camera, but who gives a shit.

They have to stay there and  _socialize_ for a few more hours, probably attend an after-party. She used to like them; Carmilla never got any awards so she could stay at her table drinking, and the after-parties were also very lenient with their alcohol. Tonight, however, she wants to go home and press Laura against as many horizontal surfaces as possible.

Other actors and industry people greet them, make polite small-talk. Laura moves to be interviewed by those backstage cameras and she's got a bright grin on her face, eyes a little wet, an award on her right hand. Carmilla sticks by her, just shy of the camera's angle, but Laura seems to appreciate the gesture.

“I couldn't have done this without Carm and Kirsch,” she's telling the – surprisingly polite – host; she glances at Carmilla and smiles wider. “They deserve this as much as I do.”

Carmilla rolls her eyes - Laura is obviously the star of their show – but hey, free compliments, right? She'll take it.

They wrap it up and, once the camera is safely away, the host congratulates her again. Laura visibly doesn't know what do to with that, already overcome with emotion; Carmilla steps beside her, puts a hand to the small of her back. Laura re-settles.

“Thank you,” she says, genuine. “It means a lot to me.”

After the awards end and people start leaving, they stop briefly at home to change clothes. Kirsch is already blowing up her phone, asking if they'll give him a ride to the party.

“I'm torn between staying home or going so I can wingman for Kirsch,” she says, scrolling through her messages. Laura laughs; her heels echo on the hardwood floors, as she steps up behind her and winds her arms around her waist. “Do we _have_ to go?”

Laura's lips skim the skin on the back of her neck, and she shivers. “I did win an award,” she says, an apology somewhere in her voice. “We should at least wave at some people.”

She huffs. “How much time do we have?”

Laura brushes her hair off her shoulder, to place a kiss where it meets her neck. It's far from an innocent touch, because she lets her teeth drag against sensitive skin. “Not enough,” she whispers, and bites down.

She wears her tie snugly to hide what is surely becoming an impressive bruise, and has to avoid Laura's knowing, smug grin until they're allowed to leave.

 

 

 

They go bowling with the ginger twins after a particularly long week. Carmilla is yet again tired as all hell and would prefer to be dozing at her chair, but Laura is spectacularly  _bad_ at this, and she'd bet LaF dinner.

“Never thought I'd see the day,” she drawls as Laura's ball steers clear of any pins, “Laura Hollis isn't great at everything.”

Laura clicks her tongue. “You don't have to be so happy about it.”

“Sweetheart, this is a full-fledged event. There should be posters, newscasts. A guy dressed as a bowling pin outside with a sign 'come watch a miracle'.”

“Shut up. LaF's beating all of us.”

Perry stops glaring daggers at the – probably incredibly unsanitary – bowling balls. “To be fair, LaFontaine  _has_ been playing since middle school.”

Carmilla whirls around to point accusingly at LaFontaine, who returns from  _another_ strike. “You little shit.”

They put their hands up; their smirk is much like a child's, when they think they've played someone. Well, they  _have_ played Carmilla, but she's not about to say it. “I like to play to my strengths, Karnstein.”

“I am not impressed.”

“Don't be such a sore loser. What's dinner to a well-paid actress?”

“It's not about money. It's about my wounded pride.”

Laura snorts and pushes her forward. “It's your turn. Try not to challenge our friends into duels, please?”

“You, me, high noon.” LaFontaine says as Carmilla picks a ball. Laura starts opening her mouth, but they cut her midway. “Loser gets lunch.”

“I know when to quit,” she replies airily; her shot rings true as the visor congratulates her on a strike.

Laura shakes her head. “You have impeccable timing.”

“I know my cues.”

Sadly, her turnaround is not enough to win them the game. The group ends up on a random McDonald's, all hats and glasses, and sit at a far table. Perry, the least recognizable of all of them, goes up to order, while the others stay seated and pick their nails.

“Rumors are flying around,” LaFontaine grins, “That you're getting married.”

Laura straightens up on her seat; it jostles Carmilla enough so that her arm leaves the back of her chair. In an understated – though still noticed by her – gesture, Laura reaches out to grasp her hand. It's still a thing, the constant want to be touching in some way, even after almost two years.

“Wasn't that like three months ago?” Laura asks.

Carmilla shrugs. “They recycle. Gossip columnists are very eco-friendly.”

“Where did that even come from? Neither of us has a ring.”

“Who says gossip needs evidence?”

“I'd like to think _some_ columnists adhere to a standard,” Laura says, pursing her lips. “Respect for their craft and all that?”

“I'm sure some do,” Carmilla says in a pacifying tone. “I can get Mattie to dispel those, if you don't want to bother your publicist about it. I'm sure she'd love to intimidate people. It's been a while since she's made an intern cry.”

Laura laughs. “I don't think I'd wish Matska's glare on anyone.”

“Is that a no to the scary sister?”

“Yeah, but thank you.”

She leans close to press a quick kiss to Laura's cheek. “I was doing us all a favor. Without an scapegoat, Mattie's aggression ends up on me.”

“It's amusing.” Laura shrugs.

LaF snorts. “Full of surprises.”

“So many layers to the Hollis onion, however will you peel them all?”

Perry returns with their food. In one of their many displays of gross couple behavior, Carmilla gives Laura her fries without a second glance; she's rarely got enough space for them, anyway, and Laura eats like she's on a mission. Laura hums her thanks and liberally squeezes ketchup on top of them.

It's moments like these that Carmilla truly enjoys. Don't get her wrong, she loves walking down the carpets and going to interviews and everything with her girlfriend, but she's a homebody at heart, and seeing Laura stuff her face with a burger does wonders. She's wearing Carmilla's old university hoodie, the one so often washed the maroon has turned into a dull brown, and the LA hat Carmilla had bought her so long ago. She looks  _hers_ , in a way, and it's a stupefying sight.

She stops herself from staring for too long because it most likely looks creepy, and LaFontaine's hawk eyes are always on the prowl for blackmail. As she thinks about it, her eyes catch LaF's alarmingly green phone case, as they snap a picture of them.

“I'm not posting it now,” they say, rolling their eyes. “Later. I just want the internet to see your Friday night attire.”

“Your shirt has a weird astronaut on it, okay. You're not in a position to Fashion Police me.”

LaFontaine pouts. “It's Buzz Lightyear!”

“Who?”

Laura facepalms her way into the conversation. “You've never seen Toy Story?”

Well. She can either lie and be caught, or admit to it. “No.”

“We're watching it this weekend.”

She sinks into her seat. “Do we have to?”

“It's important for your education and for my sanity.”

LaF sing-songs, “Whipped.”

LaFontaine snaps another picture and Carmilla tries to snatch the phone from their hand. They dodge out of her reach, dangling the phone with a smirk. Perry, who has been exercising an unprecedented amount of control up to this point, exhales heavily and says, “Quit it, both of you.”

They both lower their hands, LaF going as far as ducking their head down. “Sorry.”

Laura steers them towards safer topics for the rest of the night. They only say their goodbyes when Perry can't get through a sentence without yawning; Carmilla herself is swaying on her feet a little.

When they finally get home, Carmilla barely makes it through her nightly routine before seeking refuge inside their comfy duvets. Laura laughs at her from the bathroom; she squints to see Laura brushing her teeth. She continues to glare up until Laura finally slides into bed and rests her head on the pillow beside hers.

“Hey, babe,” she says. “Can I ask you something?”

Laura props her head up on her hand. “Yeah. What's up?”

“You still good with not telling everyone?” she breathes out, because it's kind of been at the back of her mind. Laura is always chill and on board with Carmilla's decisions in regard to career or image, but she needs to make sure.

A quick, teasing smile passes Laura's lips. Her left hand comes to caress Carmilla's cheek, and she almost falls asleep right then. “I'm good, Carm. Besides, I think everyone already knows.”

Carmilla's voice is somewhere between a hum and a purr. “You're right.”

Laura leans down, catching her lips in a sweet, light kiss that's barely there. A deep feeling of safety and contentment latches onto Carmilla's bones, makes her sink into the mattress. “Don't worry about it.”

“Can't,” she yawns. “It's important.”

“Well, it's not that important for me. I love you and you love me, and it's all that matters.”

Carmilla pulls Laura in, tucking her into her neck. Laura gives a sigh in return, her hand moving to rest on the middle of Carmilla's chest. “I really do love you,” she says, as if she's imparting a secret. As if she hasn't said it at least once every day.

“I know. I love you too.”

“K. We can sleep now.”

 

 

 

They shoot the end of the season with a fair amount of time to spare. There'd been lots of issues with scheduling and set building throughout most of their year, but everything seems to come together for their final shots.

Carmilla was nothing if not pleased to know what the end meant; her character and Laura's would finally kiss, in a great scene involving monsters and dangerous artifacts. At first, she thought it would be the classic dying declaration of love trope, and was prepared to fight LaF on it, but it turned out to be a  _lot_ more hopeful than that.

Kissing Laura on camera turns out to be an experience. They say their lines, have a brief pause, and then lean in for the kiss; and Laura giggles.

“Wow,” Carmilla deadpans. “Please laugh when I'm trying to make out with you.”

Laura holds onto her arm, apologetic. They try again- JP is somewhere between amused and worried as they set everything up. And it is all for naught, because Laura bites her own lip in a vain attempt to stop her smile.

“I'm sorry,” she says, falling forward to hold onto Carmilla's shoulders. Carmilla keeps looking hurt about it all. “I-”

“This is doing wonders for my ego, cupcake.”

“I laugh when I'm nervous!”

She makes a face at Laura. It takes them a good reel of bloopers, but Laura finally calms down for Perry's sake; they manage two takes perfectly, and then someone, at last, calls cut.

“Why the hell would you be nervous?” Carmilla says, tugging Laura at the direction of the trailers outside, as soon as they're un-miked. “We did a lot more than kissing just this morning.”

Laura blushes at both her smirk and her words. “Never in front of that many people.”

“Worried you'd get performance issues, sweetheart?”

She gets a slap on the arm for that. “Like my performance is ever an issue.”

Carmilla laughs and, after quickly looking around, plants a brief kiss on Laura's lips. “It isn't.”

“I was worried I'd get carried away,” she tells Carmilla. Laura is clearly kind of shy about this, and distracts herself with opening her trailer's door; Carmilla keeps smiling. “Sometimes it's hard to stop.”

“Flatterer.”

Carmilla closes the door behind them, looking over at Laura. The trailer is incredibly small, but its privacy is one of the only good things coming from shooting outdoors. There's a small couch pressed up against the furthest part of it, towards which Laura pushes her.

Chuckling, she lies on her back, with Laura crawling on top of her. Usually this is the part where they nap or talk about the script, but, this time, Carmilla waits until Laura settles to lean up and trace the edge of her jaw with her lips.

She then proceeds to bite and kiss every soft spot Laura has – that aren't covered by fabric – and manages to switch their positions after a while. Laura isn't often under her, either by preference or just coincidence, but she's never complained; in fact, Carmilla succeeds in turning Laura into a breathy, blushing mess in record time.

“I'm sorry I laughed,” Laura's voice cuts off at the end as Carmilla sucks at her pulse point. “Holy shit.”

“I love it when you swear,” Carmilla tells her, voice purposely low and raspy. Laura dry swallows. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Laura huffs a laugh. “That's not happening.”

 

 

 

Laura leaves for a – thankfully swift – movie shoot over at Los Angeles, leaving Carmilla at Toronto; she's used to it, knows it's part of dating an award-winning actress, but she misses Laura a lot. So much so that, instead of returning to their cold, empty apartment after gym, she heads to Mr. Hollis' house.

He looks surprised to see her there. It's not a thing she usually does, pass by without Laura, but he opens the door and invites her in all the same.

“I remember when she first started leaving,” he says, in that gruff way he does. “The house seemed so... dark.”

Carmilla isn't surprised he's read her so quickly. In fact, she kind of expected it. “I didn't- want to be there alone, I guess.”

Mr. Hollis pours her coffee; she takes it, unsweetened. He puts two spoons of sugar in his, stirs it by habit. His eyes are at the window at the far corner, from which rays of sun light up the room; when he's lost in thought, Mr. Hollis looks much like his daughter.

“Carmilla,” he says, pensively. “A few months into shooting the first season, Laura came over with that crease between her brows. You know the one, hm? When she's thinking hard about something, but doesn't want to worry anyone about it.”

“Yeah. It drives me up the wall.”

He smiles. “Me too. But we can't make her talk, so I waited it out. At the end of the night, she turns to me, and says she's – in her words – stupid and hopelessly in love with a girl, and that she believed she didn't love her back.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “That's preposterous.”

“I know. I thought so too. I told her that, whomever it was, she was out of her mind not to. But Laura was adamant- she thought she'd screwed up somehow. She showed me pictures of the two of you at that party, where the rumors first started.”

Carmilla hums, tries to pretend her heart isn't squeezing at those words. “Yeah. She ignored me for a while.”

“She- well. I'd never seen her so smitten with anyone,” he says, fond. Carmilla feels honored and very shy at having him tell her these things. She's never heard them from Laura, because she likes talking about the future, instead of the past. “She had this glow about her, like she'd unlocked some secret in the world, and talked about you all the time. Of course, she only said good things- she thought you were hilarious, and kept retelling the stories of you versus technology.

But after a while she stopped, and I didn't know why. I had a hunch, but I didn't want to speculate without more information. I didn't need to wait long, though, because the day after you two started dating, she called me. And, in all my years, I'd never heard her that happy.”

She doesn't know what to do with herself; a part of her wants to dance around the kitchen, and the other wants to cry her eyes out. Carmilla settles into dabbing her eyes and finishing her coffee. He waits, and she decides to just put the cards on the table. “I'd like to marry her, someday, sir. If she wants to.”

Laura's father grins just like her; it's a full-blown, unabashed expression of joy. He puts down his cup, laughing softly- it's not an outright dismissal, but Carmilla hasn't told a soul about this before, and it's starting to worry her.

“I would be worried if you didn't. I don't think you're asking for permission?”

“I think Laura would kill both of us if I did.”

“Ah. She's taught you well.”

She spends another hour at his house; he tells her of young Laura's adventures, her past in college and high school. But Carmilla is interested in hearing about him too, and what life he's led. Mr. Hollis is nothing if not an impressive, well-educated, kind man that has raised a remarkable daughter.

Before she leaves, they take a picture together and she sends it to Laura. In return, she gets several question marks and capslocked questions, which she answers with a single heart emoji. Laura responds with a picture of her pouting; she looks both tired and wired, which is normal for her, but there's an empty carton of food by her bed, so Carmilla's not worried.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to say that, while i am immensely grateful for all of the show's cast and crew, i'm mostly so very grateful for all the people in this fandom. i know fandom isn't a pure, wholesome experience 80% of the time, but- we're still great. it's been great to be a part of it, even if i spent most of it as a mere spectator.
> 
> DON'T FORGET TO PRE-ORDER. BLOOPERS. B L O O P E R S.


End file.
